


Early Birds

by sasuke_anti



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brotherly Bonding, Dysfunctional Family, Fluff and Humor, Glenn Fraldarius Lives, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Self-Indulgent, Sylvix Week (Fire Emblem), aka brothers being assholes, college au of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:16:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26474788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasuke_anti/pseuds/sasuke_anti
Summary: Felix is trying to ride through his last year at home without having an actual conversation with his dad. Sylvain's dead car battery makes that difficult.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39
Collections: Sylvix Week 2020 Fic Collection





	Early Birds

**Author's Note:**

> For Day 8: Free Day, of Sylvix Week 2020 (@sylvixweek2020 on twitter).

The air is thick— sweltering, stifling from the sheer amount of exhales from the past few minutes.

Felix drags himself off of the bed to open a window, shivering at the texture of the comforter on his oversensitive skin. As soon as the chilled air from outside rushes in, he regrets it, but his arms are too tired to pull it closed again. He instead leans on the sill, taking an icy inhale.

Behind him, Sylvain shifts in the sheets.

"It's too cold." He complains, likely pulling the blankets over his sticky body.

Felix would bark at him to leave them be, but it's their collective mess and he doesn't possess the energy. "It reeks in here." He says, instead.

Turning to get a good look at his handiwork, he feels his lips quirk in fondness. It's been weeks since they last had an opportunity to be together like this— between 400-level classes and Sylvain's absurdly busy social life. There was also the issue of limited space in which they could be alone; Sylvain's apartment had his rowdy band of friends around more often than not, and Felix was still afflicted with the curse of living under his family's roof.

Their relationship was still under the radar for the most part— Sylvain wanted to keep word from getting back to his father, and Felix didn't like anyone feeling like they had intimate knowledge about him. Family included.

Sylvain grins, lazy and sated, propping himself on his elbow.

"I like the smell." He croons, and Felix has no doubts about that.

"You're disgusting." He responds, but without bite— affection dripping from his tone. Felix returns to the bed, leaning over it to kiss him on lips still raw but eager.

Kissing Sylvain is not something he thought he would enjoy as much as he does, but Sylvain is cute. His mouth always chases his when they're about to part, lips puckered— like he never wants it to end.

"I missed you." Sylvain murmurs.

Felix wants to retort but he's distracted by the distinct hum of a car pulling into the driveway, the sound amplified by the open window. Any of the heat simmering in his blood freezes over.

"Is that—?" Sylvain pulls away, the shock in his face mirroring Felix's own.

He doesn't answer, intent on listening. The car door opening and his father's cough is the nail in the coffin— the bastard wasn't supposed to be home until well into the evening. Rodrigue can't follow through with damn near anything.

Felix wheels around from the bed, scanning for clothes and then throwing them behind him; towards Sylvain, at Sylvain. It can't happen like this.

"Hurry and put something on!" He scrambles to separate his own clothes from the mess on the floor.

Sylvain complains, albeit quietly, "My back hurts, Fe," he sloughs the blanket off, voice muffled as he pulls a sweater over his head, "You were too rough."

He was only rough because Sylvain had asked him too— a fact he wants to point out, but there isn't time. Felix shoves his own jelly legs into his jeans, foregoing underwear for the sake of speed.

"Isn't it just Glenn?" Sylvain tries.

Felix's brother is usually home first, and the lesser of two evils— he'd offer teasing, but there'd be little consequence outside of his words if he were to discover them.

"It's Rodrigue." Felix corrects, peering out the window to see the glossy black of his father's car. Sitting there, mocking him.

The confirmation is enough for Sylvain's face to lose all of its color, and he throws himself out of bed. He likes Rodrigue, but their families are close enough. If he catches wind of something, it won't be long before his own father is brought up to speed. Just like when they were kids.

With their current state, Felix can't scramble up a half-decent excuse.

"What do we do?" Sylvain asks, yanking on his own pants.

"I'll go down and talk to him— you just slip by when we're busy and you won't have to catch up." Felix is sure that as long as he doesn't get a good look at the both of them, they won't have anything to worry about— and if Sylvain can slip out unnoticed, even better.

"You're going to _talk_ to Rodrigue?"

"It's not impossible."

Sylvain pulls on his shoes with the hook of his finger, unimpressed, but allows Felix to lead the way. Before he can open the door, Sylvain stops him.

"It's tangled." He explains, combing his long fingers through Felix's hair.

He smiles at him with his stupidly handsome face, touch gentle.

"The whole back of your head is a rats' nest. Don't let him see you from behind." Felix mutters to push down the adoration welling from his chest, but all it does is make Sylvain smile wider.

He yanks the door open and the two peek around the corner, down the long stretch of stairs, hearing the echo of a pair of voices— Rodrigue _and_ Glenn.

If he thought he was unprepared to be faced with one of them, the thought of being confronted about their relationship by both makes him physically ill. Sylvain seems to sense this, resting his hands on his shoulders and squeezing, reassuring. They've gotten out of worse messes than this.

"I'll go down first," Felix finds his voice, "Wait two minutes, and then leave. I'll keep them distracted."

Sylvain nods. Again, as Felix moves to depart, he stops him— catches him by the wrist and holds up a finger.

"One for the road?" He asks, eyes bright.

Felix considers telling him to shut up, but can't— leaning in. The kiss is shorter than either of them would like, but the pressing issue of the voices in the entryway demands prompt attention.

Sylvain releases him to scamper down the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.

"Are we having dinner?" He asks the second he makes it to the foyer.

The two look to him in surprise, nearing shock, and Felix is hyper aware of every sweat droplet on his body— every mark, hoping their surprise is only at being addressed.

"Are we going to eat together?" Glenn asks, recovering into a smug grin, "Is Fe going to cook for us?"

He's been their father's advocate lately, encouraging Felix to mend things before he's out of the house for good. Felix assumes he thinks dinner is his way of extending an olive branch— but whatever, he can think what he likes.

"Sure. I'll cook. But you have to sit in the kitchen while I do it."

Glenn is still in his scrubs from his rotation at the clinic and Rodrigue hasn't removed his coat. Felix doesn't care, ushering them both towards the kitchen.

"I want to shower." Glenn complains.

Felix ignores him, manhandling them into the tall chairs positioned by the kitchen island.

Pouring through the remainder of his post-orgasm brain cells proves to be little more than futile— he can't think of a single thing he knows how to cook. All he can think about is how it's only a few steps between the kitchen and the stairs, and how quickly it can all fall apart.

"You don't look so good, Fe," Glenn says, propping his chin on his hand and his smile evident in his voice, "Kind of sweaty."

Felix ignores him to swing open the fridge door. The rush of cool air only reminds him of how warm he's feeling, nerves red-hot like the rings of a burner.

Then, the front door closes.

It's instant relief, knowing at least Sylvain was able to escape unscathed.

"Was that Sylvain?" Glenn asks.

The anxiety returns with a vengeance. "Why would you ask that?" He closes the door to whirl on his brother, pretending his question doesn't come out as a wheeze.

"His car is still parked out front." Rodrigue points out with a smile.

There's a second, a moment, where Felix feels as though he might cry— because of course Sylvain's car is still parked out front. He had driven them here.

Expectant, Glenn looks at him. Waiting for an answer— _the_ answer. Like an insufferable bastard; he already knows, he just wants to hear Felix admit it.

"Sylvain was over to study." As he says it, the excuse sounds feeble.

Glenn takes it in stride. "I didn't think sports medicine students had a lot in common to study with business majors."

"He didn't want to stay for dinner?" Rodrigue asks, oblivious.

He won't remain that way for long if Glenn has his way, scrapping with him over semantics.

"I changed my mind," Felix grits out, "Feed yourselves."

He bolts past them and upstairs. He runs into his room, slamming the door behind him and cutting off any echo of a complaint.

His chest heaves, all of the leftover panic hitting him at once. It had been way too close for comfort. He has no doubt in his mind that Glenn knows. Felix is going to poke a nail in his tire or clog the communal toilet— something. There would be a reckoning for his mockery.

On his way to face plant into the still rumpled sheets of his bed, he catches sight of Sylvain's car still sitting outside the front of his house. He approaches the window in slow-growing horror, noticing that he's just sitting in the driver's seat. Doing what— Felix can't begin to guess.

He tries to wave at him, motion— swinging his limbs, but Sylvain doesn't notice. The idiot gets out of his car and circles it, putting his hands on his head in frustration.

" _Sylvain_!" Felix whisper-yells out the still open window, face nearly pressed to the mesh of the screen.

Sylvain doesn't hear him.

He's tempted to punch through the screen and crawl down to see what the issue is, but he's halted by the front door opening. Sylvain's horror mirrors Felix's own as he turns towards the now open door, looking about two seconds from high-tailing it down the street.

"Hello Sylvain," Rodrigue steps out into the driveway, sounding concerned, "What's going on?"

"Hey, Rodrigue— uh, sir," Sylvain stammers, "I, my, battery died."

His car battery is dead, of course, because Sylvain, like all of their stupidly wealthy friends, fails to take care of their possessions in a timely manner. He'd joked about how surprised he was that the damn thing was still running, a week prior.

This time, Felix does press his face to his bed, just to muffle his scream.

He scrapes himself off of the bed to fling his bedroom door open yet again, skipping three steps this time on his way down. Glenn cackles at him as he throws himself through the open front door.

"I've got it!" He wheezes.

Sylvain turns his panicked gaze to him, but Rodrigue just gives him a cool look.

"Do you know how to jumpstart a car, Felix?" He asks.

Felix realizes he doesn't— he's never had to. His shoulders sag, and Rodrigue continues on like the insufferable prick he is when he admits _no_.

"I'll teach both of you," He smiles, like their misfortune is the best thing that could've happened, "It will be really quick, and then you'll know. We just need to push the car up the driveway, next to mine."

Sylvain looks misty-eyed, but without a choice, both nod.

Rodrigue takes on the strenuous task of disengaging the parking brake, rummaging around in Sylvain's car like it's his own— settling on the side and telling them that he'll pull it when they make it to the top.

Felix and Sylvain push at the bumper, up the hill, teeth grit and both heaving against the metal.

"You seem to have lost some muscle since I last saw you." Rodrigue teases as he observes.

"I already worked out today," Sylvain half-sobs, "I wasn't expecting to engage my core this much."

Engage, he did, and Felix wishes Rodrigue would lay at the bottom of the driveway so they could let the car roll over him and be done with the entire thing.

Rodrigue pulls the brake after they've completed the hard labor. He pops the hood to lean in and locate the battery, humming to himself. While he's distracted, Felix tugs at the back of Sylvain's sweaty head— working out the tangles and brushing down the mats as quickly as he can.

"I didn't know this was going to happen." Sylvain whines, wincing but ultimately allowing Felix to groom him.

They pull apart quickly when Rodrigue's head pops back up from behind the open hood.

"I'm going to grab cables from the garage."

"Hurry it up." Felix grits out, waiting until his father is out of sight before returning his attention to Sylvain.

Despite his best efforts, he still looks like he's been mauled. Felix tries to smooth out his hair and jerks his sweater over a noticeable hickey at the junction of his neck and shoulder.

"You're being so rough today."

"You like it," Felix mutters, thumbing at his cheek before shoving his hands in his pockets when the garage door begins to ascend.

Rodrigue emerges, the unassuming villain of Felix's life story, red and black cables in hand.

"This kind of thing is simple, really."

He demonstrates how to connect the cables: where, when, and the point in time at which the car can be switched on. It is simple, and Felix wishes he could've been taught by literally anyone else. While the cars idle, sharing energy, Rodrigue returns all of his attention to Sylvain.

Small talk— the bane of Felix's existence, and the useless skill of everyone he seems to know. His father asks about school and Sylvain's own brother, spurred on by his friendly answers, unaware of the sore spots he's hitting with painful accuracy. Felix's mood continues its sour trajectory to hell. He wishes Rodrigue would have some semblance of tact, but his lack thereof never fails to amaze him.

Rodrigue then asks if Sylvain is still dating Dimitri.

"Uh, no sir," Sylvain's awkward laugh trails off, darting a worried glance towards Felix, "It didn't work out."

They hadn't actually dated. It was more of a friends-turned-benefits type situation, but still serves as the cause of delay in their own getting together. He can't help but bristle.

"Enough small talk." He snaps, giving Rodrigue his best withering glare.

Rodrigue goes quiet, then nods. "Let's turn the cars off." His smile returns after a beat.

They do, and disconnect the cables shortly afterwards. Rodrigue then leans into the driver's seat of Sylvain's car, clicking the key in the ignition to confirm it will turn back on. It rumbles to life.

"Make sure you let it run for a while, okay?" Rodrigue leaves it on, clapping Sylvain on the shoulder.

"Absolutely— thank you so much. Seriously, you saved my life." Sylvain beams.

"It's no problem," Rodrigue returns the smile with flourish, soaking up the attention, "You should stay for dinner, Sylvain. Felix offered to cook."

The panic returns, and Sylvain just laughs, "Oh— no, I'm okay. I should be getting home. Thank you, anyways."

Rodrigue hums his understanding. He looks as though he wants to linger, to see Sylvain off, but Felix gives him a hard stare, waiting for the old man to take a hint.

After a beat, he does and waves his goodbyes.

Felix waits, checking the window for any sign of his father or Glenn. When he spots nothing, he tugs Sylvain down by his sweater for a kiss.

Sylvain sighs at the peck, shoulders melting.

"I thought it was over— it might still be over." He drops his head onto Felix's shoulder with a dull thud, letting out a laugh that sounds a little too close to a sob.

Felix rubs his back, his own shoulders dropping with the weight of his relief.

"I hate everything." He mutters. It may be juvenile to resent his parental figure for existing, but Felix is sure he'll never grow out of it. It's hard not to when Rodrigue seems hell-bent on antagonizing him every chance he gets.

"Sylvain lifts his head to pout, "Do you hate me?"

"Yes. I especially hate you," He grumbles, "If I didn't love you so much, I wouldn't be in this damn mess."

Appeased, Sylvain beams. He leans in for another kiss— then another, and another.

The slow burn from earlier returns, but before Felix can refresh his memory on how the inside of Sylvain's mouth tastes, he pulls away.

"Nope— I can't go again. Tomorrow." Sylvain huffs, flushed.

"Dimitri better be prepared to leave the apartment."

Sylvain laughs and nods, before detaching himself completely to get into the car. He closes the door, blowing Felix an obnoxious kiss through the glass of the windshield.

Felix has half a mind to turn away but Sylvain looks at him, expectant, so he returns it— with extreme reluctance. He has enough experience to know Sylvain would sit in the car all night without reciprocation.

He feels a distinct pang in his chest as the car pulls out of the driveway, the blinking red taillights away with part of his heart. Felix resents becoming one of those adults that wants to be with their significant other all the time— but he's assuaged, knowing this is only possible with Sylvain.

As he closes the front door behind him, he remembers how cold it is outside— fingers red and stinging from the return of the warmth. The smell of food beckons him into the kitchen, catching sight of Glenn poking at bacon sizzling in a pan.

"Pasta? Again?" He recognizes the ingredients strewn about the counter.

"Again." Glenn doesn't glance at him, hair wet; he's changed out of his scrubs.

Their father sits at the kitchen island, almost enough of a deterrent with his presence alone, but Felix is reminded by how hungry he is. He sits in the chair on the farthest corner, silently willing neither of them to bring up past events.

Rodrigue, as always, ignores his wishes.

"So," He turns towards him with a pleasant smile, "How long have you and Sylvain been dating?"

Felix feels the battery in his brain die, short-circuited by the return of his horror.

"They might not be dating." Glenn chimes in, clicking the tongs in his hand.

"That's true," Rodrigue nods, and continues, "But I'm almost certain they are."

So, they hadn't been subtle— his family's ignorance had been a ruse.

"Why would you think that?" Felix struggles to find his words.

Rodrigue considers him for a second, as if pondering the merits of being honest, and then says, "It has not been so long that I've been with a woman that I wouldn't be able to recognize the signs."

It's the most disgusting thing Felix has ever heard. Even Glenn, gives a mild hum of _gross_. Felix has to put his hands in his hands to prevent himself from screaming.

"Don't ever speak to me again." He pushes himself off of his stool to flee up the stairs, for the second time that night.

Glenn cackles with his absence, transferring the bacon to a plate. He'd anticipated that Felix wouldn't have returned to the kitchen at all, so the exchange was a treat in and of itself.

"You don't need to antagonize him like that." Rodrigue sighs, defeated at the exit of his youngest. He slumps against the counter of the island.

"Nobody wants to hear about your sex life, Dad." Glenn turns to point at him with the tongs, "Besides, it's my duty to haze him, and any boyfriend he might have. It's not my fault he doesn't want to talk to you."

They've had their issues— no one can deny that, but Rodrigue considers it progress that Felix would speak to him at all.

He just hums.

"Just keep it to yourself, okay?" Glenn returns his attention to the stove, "You have to let him come to you. They're probably worried you'll blab to Sylvain's father."

Rodrigue drums his fingers, "I wouldn't do that."

"So, prove it."

—

Felix all but throws his bag on the ground when entering Sylvain's room the next day. He slams the door behind him with a swing of his arms, not caring who hears.

"They know." He huffs, gravely.

Sylvain gives a choked laugh, eyes widening in shock. "Is that good news or bad news?" He asks, uncertain.

Felix flops onto the bed, crowding into Sylvain's mess of limbs. He glares up at the popcorn ceiling, "I'm not sure."

Neither had elected to bring it up again that morning before he left for school, and he hopes they keep it that way.

Sylvain rolls on his side to look at him. He hums, "It's kind of good, right? No more sneaking around?"

That part— Felix agrees. It's nice. He can remember the first day after they became official, being able to hold his warm hand in public and feeling so sure.

"I kind of liked having things... just between us," He admits, "It was special, like that."

Sylvain coos and then says, "It doesn't mean that what we have isn't special. I'd give anything to be able to tell my pops."

Felix frowns. He rolls on his own side to look at him, serious.

"I know that."

Sylvain smiles at him and cups his cheek, not upset in the slightest, "I'm not trying to guilt you, Fe. I know you and Rodrigue have your issues, but it was going to come out eventually. We're not exactly discreet."

They're not— with Sylvain's penchant for PDA, he's surprised they lasted this long. The reassurance is nice; considering their reluctance to go public was borne primarily from Sylvain's own family issues— he has to be worried that it will get back to his father. The fact he's comforting Felix rather than panicking is a testament to just how _good_ he is.

"That means we can be even less discreet."

Sylvain blinks in surprise, then grins, "That's right."

Felix leans up on his elbow, putting his hand on Sylvain's warm chest to push him flat on his back into the sheets, "We never have to be discreet again." He crawls over Sylvain, settling on top of him, "We can go over to my house whenever we want."

Sylvain's expression morphs into something like concern, "Well— we still have to be respectful."

"They don't deserve respect," Felix grins down at him, wicked, "They'll regret the day they decided to pry into my business."

Sylvain gives a huff of a breath— minty, but has a fond look anyways. "I love you." He gives up, patting the thighs settled on either side of his hips.

"I love you too." Felix says, like it's the easiest thing in the world. Likely, because it is.

**Author's Note:**

> hhhh I had to write this pretty quickly when I realized how soon Sylvix Week was coming up AND I WAS ALMOST LATE ANYWAYS, so sorry if it reflects that LOL, I just love these two too much I couldn't skip it. It's part of a universe I have in my head, I just haven't gotten around to it.... because of course I haven't
> 
> this event is actually something that happened to one of my friends IRL, haha rip to her and the dude's mom who had to jumpstart her car
> 
> I have a [twitter](https://twitter.com/sasuke_anti) and a [curious cat](https://curiouscat.qa/sasuke_anti) if you would like to chat! Right now my twitter is kind of an echo chamber of my own thoughts, so I really mean it when I offer LOL
> 
> Please leave kudos if you enjoyed and a comment if you are so inclined! I'd love to know what you thought, if there was anything that stuck out to you, or even just an f in the chat for my friend LOL
> 
> Here is a reasonably socially distanced elbow touch from me く( ˊ̱˂˃ˋ̱ ), and I hope you have a great week! ♡


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